Notes as social media eats itself

Sometimes, I indulge in social media, feeding on silly videos and mindless memes. I came upon these videos in which someone engages with something from outside his or her cultural foundation. English kids eat fast food from the US? I love those. Americans confused by Monty Python? Bring it on! Now I'm watching a guy who has never heard anything by the Beatles (or anything about them) listen to the second side of Abbey Road.

I grew up listening to the Beatles. I guess I should explain how pervasively I mean this. My parents had the entire discography as I figured every house must. When I got home from school I would often put on a Beatles album and lie on the floor listening. Really listening. Trying to feel the music, hear the layers, imagine the actions. I was enveloped in the songs, knowing when to breathe, when to play air piano and and when to flail about wildly in celebration. There I was, an 8 year old (probably also when I was younger but memories fade), lying on the floor listening to Revolver. Again. Then I was up, conducting the score to Yellow Submarine but not with too much gusto because if I stomped too hard, the record would skip and some parent, somewhere, would yell at me, solely out of concern for the well being of the LP.

I read along with the Sgt. Pepper lyrics trying to interpret them and find all the clues. I forced myself to listen to all four sides of the White Album and stared at the poster while trying to make the albums make sense. And every time I listened to it, I felt myself choke up at the end of Abbey Road side 2 because to me, learning to appreciate music after the band had already broken up, I felt that "The End" really felt like the end for the band (yes, I know about the recording dates and the Let it Be sessions...I'm talking about the emotional response of a sub-10 year old in a pre-information superhighway era. Sheesh) and I always felt about to cry. That chord into Her Majesty saved me, over and over). And I would almost always then go back and listen With the Beatles or something else to help me start the journey over. My relationship with their music was a relationship with them. I felt I knew them and understood what they felt in the music. They were MY thing. I knew others were big fans and that was great -- the Beatles could be THEIR thing also. Sharing in this subculture wasn't a competition; it was a celebration.

I went to the festivals and collected bootlegs. I watched the movies. I became a staunch Rutles fan and can hear a musical reference to the Beatles if it is out there to hear. So, yeah, I'm a pretty big Beatles fan. Now why did I bring that up? Oh, yeah. The internet

So I decided to watch a gentleman listen to music. That's exactly the kind of behavior that I previously would have considered stalking or at least an unhealthy obsession, but in the age of the web, this is normal -- watch other people play video games. Watch other people watch other people play video games. Spectating is now the sport. But this reaction was to his first interaction with Beatles music and I wanted to see his reaction -- half expecting him to pan them and I would sneer and demean his tastes and knowledge and feel superior and half expecting him to recognize their genius, thus validating my opinion and pushing me to feel superior. So I watched.

First and foremost, of all the albums to have be his first Beatles' album, Abbey Road second side is a crazy choice. An experienced Beatles fan would look at the combination of styles and voices and say "this one isn't for beginners...start slow." And then there is the issue of the medley. But hey, this isn't my channel. I'm just the rube who stumbled upon it.

I found that my watching him helped me relive my earliest memories of listening to the albums for the first, second and hundredth time. I got into his place and heard the lyrics as if I didn't already know them. What must he think about a band which has a song about a mass murderer? He didn't like the song, but he was suitably surprised when he realized what the words were saying. I recall my early confusion (though I remember really immersing myself in the music of Maxwell and not listening to the lyrics for a while, and then I learned the verses in reverse order) and my roller coaster of emotions going from a soaring bittersweet high of Something to the goofiness of Octopus' Garden to the emptiness of I Want You and the profound joy in Here Comes the Sun. Lush harmonies, sudden starts and stops, tempo shifts, recurring themes and all that after (and sometimes before) a day of 3rd grade.

The gentleman in the reaction video was only able to engage with the music on the most superficial level. Geez -- reading back that sentence, I realize I sound like a Grade A tool. But the truth is, I really do "feel" the music and part of getting into the Beatles is letting it get into you and drive your movements. The viewer was already doing that unconsciously as he swayed to the beat and wiggled his fingers to the bass fills. But I can tell you that the dances that I did while alone in the living room wearing brown corduroys and a yellow turtleneck from Sears were a lot more expressive. 

Jumping in at the end of a career presents other challenges. He doesn't have the foundational knowledge of the players so he can't appreciate the growth or the individual voices or styles or the history, easter eggs, politics etc. I wasn't alive when the albums were released, but I did try, from a young age, to engage with them in a logical order. I really immersed myself in the early albums before I started mixing the later ones in. I listened to how voices change, writing styles shift and songs call to each other across time and space. Song orders mattered. Song writers -- how contributed what? I felt like "Only a Northern Song" was a dirty secret that only I and a select group of fans understood. Glass Onion? Wink Wink! The Walrus was Paul! I read up on the band so I had a clue to the socio-political backdrop. I am a fan of rock music so I studied the era as well, recognizing the influences and the impacts, seeing the band in a broader social context. My parents encouraged all of this and though they didn't lie there on the living room floor with me, knowing that they liked the same music as I did made me feel closer to them.

As I grew and studied music, I was able to put a few feelings into words, understanding why the Beatles' music had such an impact on me. It has taken hundreds of listens and I'm just now starting to get it. I hope that this guy (whose name I do not have, nor did I follow him) decides to spend a few more hours listening to Abbey Road side 2, and then he clears a weekend, turns off his phone, starts with Meet The Beatles and just goes.